The Beginning of Vermontgate
by Pacingincircles
Summary: How Olivia and Fitz made their way to the life they live in my other story, Vermontgate; the beginning of their journey.


**So here's some back story on the AU Vermontgate. Hope ya'll like it.**

* * *

He's sitting with the two other TAs on the long table in the front of the large lecture hall, facing the room, slowly swinging his legs back against the wood, watching as students slowly trickle into the hall. The girl sitting next to him with thick rimmed glasses and a long French braid turns to him and the guy sitting next to him, "So did you guys have a good summer?"

"Can't really complain, spent a lot of time on the Cape. Now I'm just ready to get undergrad over with and start with law school."

"Yeah same, I just hung around, nothing special. What about you Claire, how was Europe?"

She smiles. "Europe was great. I wish I didn't have to come back but you know, duty calls."

An older man carrying a briefcase appears in from of them. "That it does my dear teaching assistants. I trust the three of you are up for a good semester."

Fitz looks over at the man and gives him a charming smile. "We most certainly are Professor Nichols."

"Good to hear. But just a little housekeeping before we start, I need my papers graded and my discussion classes led; I do not need my ass kissed." And he picks up his briefcase from the floor and walks away.

Josh tries to stifle his laughter but doesn't succeed. "Damn, what a douche bag."

Claire smiles. "Hey they don't say he's a hard ass for nothin'."

Fitz covers his eyes and groans. "This is going to be the worst fucking semester." But then he uncovers his eyes and looks at the girl confidently strutting down the aisle, the only one to take a seat in the front row. He smiles and mumbles to himself, "Then again, maybe not."

Olivia walks into the lecture, one of the last to arrive. She looks to the front of the room and sees the three people sitting on the table, and older man talking to them and she assumes he's the infamous Stephen Nichols. She sits, and takes out a pen and notebook from her oversized purse and looks up; the older man had moved to the other side of the room, two of the people sitting on the desk laughing at the third. She flips open the notebook and dates the top right corner, and when she looks up, she notices a pair of cerulean gray eyes intently looking at her, looking through her. She flashes him a polite little smile and looks back down, not sure why her cheeks feel so flushed and breathing has become almost a chore.

He attentively watches her for most of the class, transfixed by her beauty and her grace. His disappointment is obvious when she quickly stands and almost runs out of the room as soon as class is dismissed, but he sits back and watches with a grin as she goes, suddenly not dreading this class anymore.

* * *

It had been almost two weeks since the first day of classes, since the first day he saw her, since his mind had been able to be occupied by anything other than her. He had hoped she would be in one of his discussion sections and was thoroughly disappointed when she never walked through the door; however, he was pleasantly surprised a few days later when she waltzed into his shared office space.

"May I help you Ms…?"

"Pope," and she smiles, "but you can just call me Olivia."

"Well Olivia, what can I do for you?" he questions with a charming smile.

She fumbles with the papers in her hands. "Oh I was actually just looking for Claire. She said to come by to discuss my paper anytime this week," and she looks over to the empty desk next to his, "but if she's not here I can come back later."

"Claire's sick today and asked if I would cover for her. Why don't you take a seat and I'll take a look at this paper?"

She smiles but takes a small step backwards. "Oh you don't have to do that. I'm sure you're busy. I can just come back tomorrow."

"It's really not a problem, they're paying me for this. C'mon, let me take a look."

She hesitates for a moment but steps forward to hand him the paper anyway, sitting in the worn out chair in front of his ancient desk. "This is a nice place you've got here," she says with a smile.

"Oh yeah, nice and cozy, tucked away down here in the basement, well-loved furniture and all. What more could a guy want?"

She laughs. "Well at least it has character; I would be willing to bet this place has a whole lot of history."

He opens one of his desk drawers and hands her a small picture, torn and obviously aged. "Second oldest building on campus. They say John Harvard himself helped with the design."

She studies the picture and smiles as she breathes out, "Wow."

He watches her and nods, "Beautiful isn't it."

She continues studying the picture before looking back up at him with amazement in her eyes, "I take back my original comment; for a building almost three hundred years old, it actually is pretty nice."

"Well I'm glad you like it because you'll probably be spending a lot of time in here." And she tilts her head to the side, not quite understanding his comment so he clarifies his original statement. "Professor Nichols is how do I put this nicely, he's insane. He's got you all writing a paper a week, two midterm and finals week. He's killing you, which in turn is killing me."

"Oh he's not so bad; I'll be honest and tell you that I was disappointed when I found out he was the professor for this class, but I'd rather be challenged then just sit around and be bullshitted. Plus, I actually like to write, and his topics are pretty interesting if you take the time to really think about it."

He smiles at her, impressed with her outlook. "You may be the first person I've ever heard stand up for the guy."

"I mean shouldn't you do the same? You are assisting him and all."

"I guess I just never saw it that way before," and he looks down to her paper on the desk, "why don't we take a look now."

She smiles and nods, sitting back as he starts to read her work. He smiles half way through the last page a looks up at her, "To ridicule philosophy is truly philosophical; wow that's so deep."

"Are you mocking Pascal?"

He laughs, "No, I would never do such a thing."

She smiles, "So you're mocking me then?"

"Maybe just a little," he says as he looks back down and finishes reading the paper. "So what were you going to ask Claire about this? Because from what I've read, I think you've hit the nail on the head. She'll probably even forward this on to Nichols, I know I would."

"What do you mean forward it on?"

"He pretty much just uses us to skim through and weed out the bad papers so he doesn't waste his time on things so below him. He's brilliant but lazy and bored very easily."

"Oh wow, that kind of sucks for you," she says with a small laugh.

"Yeah, it does; but when he writes me a killer letter of rec at the end of the semester it'll be worth my troubles."

"You don't think he'll hate my antithesis?"

"Oh he'll hate it for sure," and he pauses for a second, noticing how the smile on her face falls, "but he'll hate it because it'll make him think. It'll challenge him, and there's nothing a philosopher loves more than an intellectual argument. And he'll really hate that you made a very strong argument and that it should take him more than a few minutes to tear it apart." He smiles. "So that actually means he'll love it."

She smiles again, "You're kind of as ass, you know that?"

He laughs. "I am not an ass."

"Yes you are." And she reaches out to take her paper back and to put it away, but his hand lightly brushes hers and she can't help but feel her cheeks go flush again. They sit there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, neither wanting to break the gaze, daring the other to be the first to look away.

But eventually they hear voices coming down the hall and it's enough to break her from their trance. She takes the papers and puts them back into her purse. "I should go."

"Would you maybe, ever be interested in, um—" he starts stumbling over his words and she smiles.

"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?"

He shakes his head no and smiles, "Yes, yes I am. Would you go?"

"What if I have a boyfriend?"

His face falls but he's quickly able to recover it. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"I do," and she pauses for a few seconds, trying to fluster him, "not have a boyfriend. But I can't go out with you. You're my teacher."

"I'm not your teacher. Nichols is your teacher, and Claire is your TA. Technically speaking, I'm nothing to you."

"I'm flattered, I really am; but I can't go out with you." And she slowly stands.

"Tell me why."

She starts walking to the door but turns back and smiles. "I can't go out with you because you're an ass." And she walks out the door, shutting in gently behind her.

He smiles and leans back in his chair, exaggeratedly blowing out his breath. He sits up again and looks at the door, noticing something that had been slipped under it. He walks over to it and picks up a small piece of folded paper on top of the photograph he had shown her and he carefully unfolds the paper as he walks back to his desk_._

_For when you're finished being an ass. 410-555-5433._

* * *

She's walking out of class, trying to convince herself that she's relieved he didn't call, trying to remind herself that he's her teacher, he's off limits, trying to persuade herself to forget about him. But she can't; and if she's truly honest with herself, she's hurt, and she doesn't get upset over boys, never has in the past. So she's trying her best to mask her newfound emotions, trying her best to forget about his smile, and how their conversation just naturally flows, and how when she's with him everything else seems to fall away, and how his eyes light up when he looks at her. But mostly, she's trying to forget how he has the ability to make her heart skip a beat, how he can take her breath away with a smile, how he makes her feel like she's the only one in the room, the only one on the planet.

So she's almost running from the lecture hall, trying to get away from it all. And she makes it to the door before someone grabs her arm and pulls her back inside. They stand in silence, waiting for the few people left in the room to clear out, staring at each other. The last person finally leaves and Olivia is the first to break the silence.

"You didn't call."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. But I wanted to ask in person so, Olivia Pope will you please accompany me to dinner tonight?"

She thinks for a moment, and when she doesn't answer right away, he pouts and adds, "Please."

She smiles. "I will go out with you, but I won't go tonight. I have a paper to write, you know."

"Tomorrow night?"

She nods, "Tomorrow night."

He smiles. "Tomorrow night then."

And she turns to walk out of the room, but turns back to him. "Am I allowed to exit the building now, or will I be met with more resistance at the door?"

"I've gotten what I want; now you may proceed to exit."

She starts walking to the door and mumbles under her breath, "Ass."

He smiles and yells after her, "Hey I heard that!"

* * *

They're sitting in his car, parked on the top of a nearby cliff, watching the stars as they eat the dinner he had packed for them.

"So, is this where you take all of the girls you're an ass to?"

"Just the ones who have to write papers and force me to cancel reservations and make me come up with something last minute. So to answer your question, yes." And he looks over at her with a charming smile.

"And here I was thinking I was special."

"Eh, you're not that special."

She closes her eyes and disapprovingly nods her head. "And just when I got to thinking you're not that much of an ass."

"I'm not an ass; I'm special and you know it."

She playfully hits his shoulder, accidently spilling her drink on his shirt in the process. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Here let me help you with that." And she leans in to pat his shirt dry with a napkin.

She looks up at him after a few seconds, his face dangerously close to hers. And she's now staring at his lips, and she knows he's noticed but she can't look away. She doesn't want to look away.

And she's not sure who actually starts leaning in first, who gives into gravity and lets their lips touch, who initiates the kiss; but before she knows it, his lips are on hers and he's kissing her, and she's kissing him back.

He starts to tug her bottom lip between his teeth, and she knows he's inviting her to deepen the kiss, to open her mouth, to let their tongues battle; but she pulls back instead, a smile on her face, he need for oxygen becoming too great.

"Wow," she breathes, her eyes still closed, the smile glued to her face.

He presses a sweet kiss to her cheek and sits up in his seat. "That was…wow…I've been thinking about kissing you for almost a month now, and nothing I've imagined has been that incredible."

She opens her eyes and her smile grows wider looking at the warm expression playing across his features. They both lean in again and this time, she initiates the kiss. It's hot, and passionate, and before she knows it, he's pushing the bag of food onto the ground and pulling her onto his lap. He wraps his arms around her waist, resting them on her lower back; and she starts to toy with the few curls at the nape of his neck, outlining his lips with her tongue.

He finally opens his mouth and deepens their kiss, fiercely battling her tongue with his own. She moans into his mouth as his hands travel lower and begin to gently rub up and down her outer thighs, slowly making their way inside. He takes the hem of her shirt and starts to pull it up, but she grabs his hands and stops him, finally pulling her lips away from his, breathless.

"No, no. Stop. Wait." And she opens her eyes, only to see the lust and desire played out in his. She smiles against his lips and pecks them quickly before adding, "We should probably stop."

He nods, "We should; but that doesn't mean I want to." And he leans in and frames her face with his hands, giving her what was meant to be a sweet kiss, but quickly turns into something raw, and passionate, and searing.

He pulls away this time, resting his forehead on hers, his hands still on her cheeks. "We should stop."

She smiles. "Mmmhmm, we should." And she moves back over to her seat, picking up her discarded food, placing it back on her lap.

"I guess I should be getting you home," he says reluctantly after a few silent moments.

She nods wistfully but adds, "Can we just look at the stars for a few more minutes before we go? They're so beautiful from up here."

He smiles at her and gently interlaces their hands. "Sure." And they both lean back in their seats and look up at the stars, enjoying both the view and the company, unconscious smiles on their faces.

* * *

"Ah, yes Grant I'm glad you stopped by. Please close the door and have a seat," Professor Nichols says as she outstretches a hand and motions for Fitz to sit.

"Claire said that you wanted to talk to me." And he fidgets a little as he takes a seat in the large office.

"Yes well, I'm going to just get straight to the point. It has come to my attention that you have been engaging in an, how do I phrase this correctly, an inappropriate relationship with one of your students over the past few weeks. I'm not asking what type of relationship this is, whether romantic or strictly platonic; but I am telling you that it needs to end now. I expected better from you, Grant."

"But sir with all due respect, Livvie isn't—"

The older man holds up his hand. "No no, I do not care to know her name, it wouldn't allow for objectivity on my part any longer; just like this relationship doesn't allow for objectivity on your part any longer either. End it Grant, or I will be forced to report it."

He slowly nods in understanding and walks out of the office, a blank expression plastered to his face. He walks back across campus to his apartment in zombie like fashion and finally collapses onto his couch, looking down at the picture of them from the night before, at the little carnival right outside of town, her face lit up with a bright smile as he hands her a giant stuffed animal that he had just won for her.

He closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of the couch, trying to think of what to say to her, how to phrase it, how to ask her to hide themselves. He's sitting there, trying to think of a course of action when his front door swings open and she calls out his name.

He doesn't have the chance to respond before she walks into the small living room and smiles, taking a seat next to him and setting a large brown paper bag on her lap. She leans in and places a soft kiss to his lips, trailing her way across his jaw and finally to his ear. "I brought dinner from Carter's."

He turns to her and fakes a smile, hoping he'll be able to cover up his sullen demeanor, hoping to save her from any pain until he can no longer. But he can't cover it up, her can't save her; if it was anyone else her could, but now with her. She reads him too well, knows him too well.

"Ok, what's wrong?" And she pushes herself off of the corner of his lap and sits back so she can fully see his face.

He looks down at his lap for a few seconds before looking up at her and mumbling, "Nichols asked to see me today." He sees her face quickly fall and he leans in to peck her lips and cup her cheek in his hand. "He knows. And, he thinks our relationship is inappropriate; and he told me to end it."

A few tears well up in her eyes and her breath hitches. "Oh."

He wipes away the few tears that had escaped with his thumb and shakes his head. "But Livvie, I can't do it. What he have is rare and special, it's once in a life time. And I don't want to give it up, I can't just walk away, I won't."

"Fitz, you have to think about your career. He could ruin you before you ever get the chance to start. I think maybe we should—"

"No, I don't care. I want to be with you Liv. These past three months with you, they've been the best days of my life. Now that I know what life can be like, I can't go back to before. Livvie, I _love_ you."

She looks up at him shocked, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. "What, what did you just say?"

He smiles and brings both of his hands to frame her face. "I said, I love you Livvie."

She keeps her poker face for a few seconds, but then a wide grin plays out across her lips. "I love you too." And she leans forward, bringing her lips to his, kissing him with urgency.

He pushes the bag of food down onto the floor and pins her under him on the couch. He interlaces their fingers above her head as he snakes his tongue into her mouth, evoking a small moan from her. She pulls her hands free from his and brings them down his body, quickly untucking his shirt and unbuttoning it from bottom to top; she pushes it off of his shoulders and he wrestles the rest of the way out of it, letting it fall to the floor.

She moans as he breaks their kiss in favor of lightly sucking behind her ear as he rids her of her shirt too. He starts pressing wet kisses to her chest and then her flat stomach as she tangles her fingers in his hair.

He stops and looks up at her, about to reach for her bra, but before he unclasps it, he adds, "If you want to stop, you need to say so now. Because in a few minutes I won't be able to."

She opens her eyes and shakes her head, looking at the desire and love in his eyes. "No, I want this; I want this with you; I want you to be my first."

He makes his way back up her body and captures her lips with his own as he throws her bra onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. He moves down and presses a few open mouthed kisses to the top of her breasts before circling his tongue around one of her nipples, using his fingers to do the same to the other. She arches her back, moaning in pure pleasure as he continues his ministrations.

He suddenly sits upright, and she opens her eyes right as he lifts her into his arms.

"Fitz what are you doing?"

"I'm not letting your first time, our first time be on my parent's old couch." And he walks into his bedroom and deposits her gently on the center of the bed. He crawls back on top of her, reconnecting their mouths, palming both of her breasts. She lets out a few more soft moans as he pulls away and moves down her body, stopping at the top of her jeans; he unbuttons them and slides them down her legs, leaving her clothed only in her lacey black panties. He kisses her through her panties and then places two open mouthed kisses to her hip bones as he removes them, leaving her bare and open to him. He watches as her head rolls back as he makes his initial kiss and lick. And from there, it's all heavy moans and wet noises and shocked breaths and immense pleasure. And she's writhing under his touch, it all too much for her, and she tries to squirm away; but then she's gasping and screaming out, and clamping her knees shut, and trying to catch her breath as a tingly sensation she's never felt before rolls through her body.

He crawls back up her body, smiling as he connects their lips again. And she can taste herself on him, and she reaches for his belt, trying desperately to rid him of his pants too. And she finally does, and this time it's him filling her up, and slow deep thrusts, and beautiful words of encouragement, and loud moans, and vast pleasure, and the union of souls.

He flips them over and she lays her head on his chest, lightly toying with the few strands of hair. He leans down and kisses the top of her head as he holds her close, reveling in the peaceful contact.

"I love you, Olivia."

She smiles, "I love you too," and she continues lightly tracing her hand over her chest. "It's only two months."

He picks his head up off of the pillow and she tilts hers up to make eye contact. "What?"

"Until the end of the semester. We can make it two months."

"Livvie no, I don't want to give all of this up for two whole months."

"We don't have to give it all up. I'll still bring dinner, and we'll still spend time together. We just won't be seen around together, and I won't kiss you or do any of this with you anymore."

"Liv—"

"No, Fitz this is your future. I mean if Nichols screws you, who's going to want to marry a man who flips burgers the rest of his life?"

"You love my burgers," he plays back with a mischievous grin.

'That's beside the point. I'm not going to let myself compromise your dream. So until the end of the semester, we're just acquaintances. No kissing, no holding hands, no favors."

"Fine. The kissing can end because let's face it, you're not the best kisser anyway. But dinner, dinners shouldn't end."

She looks up at the smile on his face and playfully slaps his shoulder. "You are such an ass."

"I'm not as ass, but you have a very nice one." And he playfully squeezes it before pulling her back up so she's straddling him. And he leans in to kiss her but she sits up.

"No kisses for you from this bad kisser." And she starts to get off of the bed but he pulls her back and flips them over, pinning her to the bed.

"All of that crap can start tomorrow. Tonight I'm kissing you for the next two months." And he brings his lips down to hers, the passion and urgency returning.

* * *

He's sitting at the bar on a Friday night with a few friends, catching up, drinking, distracting himself from missing her. But the conversation bores him so he starts looking around, his eyes immediately falling on a beautiful girl on the dance floor. He sits back and watches her with a smile, and she makes eye contact a few times, smiling back at him. Another guy makes his way over to her and places his hands low on her hips, trying to dance with her; but she pushes him away and turns back to her friends on the dance floor with her.

He watches her move for a few more minutes, his friends starting to notice his interest.

"Man, why don't you go talk to her? C'mon Fitz."

"Nah it's ok. I'd rather watch." And he notices her slip away down a hall so he waits a few seconds before adding, "I think I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then we can get out of here."

"Yeah man whatever you want."

He slips off the bar stool, legs a little wobbly at first, not realizing how strong that scotch actually was. He walks down the same hallway, the loud music fading in the background and he sees her leaning up against the wall.

"I thought you'd come." And she smiles as she closes the gap in between them.

"I haven't seen you all week." And he leans in to kiss her but she pulls away.

"No no, we still have another week. And I've been busy with finals, and I really don't even know you. What's your name again?"

"You're a funny funny person. And I call bull shit on this extra week. Classes are almost over, we're done, we're done waiting." He leans in again and this time she doesn't back away. He holds her hands above her head, pressing her into the wall, sucking on her plump bottom lip. She starts lightly grinding herself onto him as he sucks on the sensitive skin behind her ear, the spot that he knows makes her moan every time.

He snakes a hand under her shirt and starts playing with her breasts through her bra, and she wraps one of her legs around his waist, still moving against him. They start to hear voices coming down the darkened hallway and he reluctantly pulls way. "Maybe we should stop."

"I don't want to stop." And she pulls her back down for another searing kiss. "Meet me at my apartment in twenty minutes, my roommate is gone." And she fixes her hair and straightens her shirt and pushes past him, walking out of the bar. He leans up against the wall for a few seconds, trying to calm himself down. And he smiles to himself, thinking about how the next week, the next semester, the next year will be the best of his life; and hopefully one day, she'll give him the best life.

* * *

**Well..?**


End file.
